


Ask Me

by ashesandhoney



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU, Adorable Awkward Virgins, Childhood Friends, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Post Reveal, adrienette - Freeform, super fluffy, super slow indulgent sex scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-05-18 22:30:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5945593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashesandhoney/pseuds/ashesandhoney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng keep each other's secrets. </p><p>Adrien has been homeschooled his entire life and becoming Chat Noir and meeting Ladybug was the first time he'd ever made a friend who hadn't been pre-approved by his father. They spend as much time together as they can manage and have been falling asleep in the same bed since they weren't much more than children but they're not children anymore and sooner or later something is going to change. </p><p>Very much porn and very nearly without plot. A childhood best friends AU without the love square.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on clairelutra's idea about an AU where Adrien never joined Marinette's class so there was only ever the Ladynoir side of the ship. 
> 
> http://clairelutra.tumblr.com/post/138722215495/glances-at-post-about-ladybug-playlists-yes 
> 
> I saw that post and got caught on the bit about Adrien sleeping over at Marinette's and the idea of platonic sleepovers becoming less platonic as they got older just wouldn't leave me alone. I checked with her to make sure that it was ok to run with it and this is the result. 
> 
> Marinette has graduated from Lycee so they're both 18 in this but if sexual situations make you uncomfortable, then this is not the fic for you.

Adrien was getting used to waking up like this, slow and warm and happy. He rolled a little closer and wrapped his arms around her. This was dangerous territory but he was still half asleep and his mind hadn't caught up with his actions. She stretched and he had pulled her in close enough that he felt the movement up and down his body. 

"You're clingy this morning, Kitten," she said. 

"I was in Milan for too long, I missed you," he said. 

He was stupid. He wanted this too much. He needed to turn down the honesty before he said something he couldn't laugh off as a joke. Instead of doing anything so reasonable he tucked his face down against her shoulder and breathed in the smell of her. 

They had been Paris's child super heroes. 

Chat Noir and Ladybug, running around the city and saving lives. They kept their secrets from everyone but each other. They'd met in costume and for years that had been how they'd known each other. Then one day, she had invited him hometo show him all her research. She had a board hidden in the back of her wardrobe where she'd laid out everything she could collect about Hawkmoth. That day when the transformation wore off, she just let herself turn back. 

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was just a girl. They had been about sixteen that day and he hadn't been brave enough to let her see who he was. Not right away. It took about another week of sitting around in costume in her bedroom while they argued theories and she showed him news clippings and they shot down each others ideas and built them back up again. He was worried about not living up to the hero he pretended to be. 

He shouldn’t have been so worried. She hadn’t recognized him as the vapid model he feared the world saw him as. Marinette looked at him, in or out of costume, like he was someone important. She was the only person who really knew who he was which was wonderful. That she still liked him even though she knew all his little flaws was a miracle. 

Adrien Agreste was a celebrity to most people. The society darling. The rising star in the modeling industry. The pretty little shadow for his powerful father.  He went to the parties and met the people his father wanted him to meet. His life was interviews and runways and beautiful clothing. He kept up with all the course work he needed to pass the state exams as well as all the extra work his tutors assigned. He readjusted who he was depending on who he was speaking to. Dutiful son, charming celebrity, attentive student, whatever they wanted. 

Marinette, his Ladybug, was the only real exception. 

He had been home schooled his entire life. He’d started a fight when he was thirteen to be enrolled in public school but in the end he had lost it. Public schools wouldn't challenge him enough according to his father. Marinette had gone to public school and she was doing fine but that wasn't an argument his father wanted to hear. He had always been a little jealous just at the prospect of having classmates and the opportunity to make unapproved friends. She told him he wasn’t missing much even as she kept up a running conversation via text message with a friend she had met at that school. 

She had graduated that year and it was starting to feel like there was a time limit on this partnership they had. The clock would run out on late night arguments and sharing take out food in the park and talking about nothing for hours and sharing her bed in a way that didn't mean anything more than that he didn't want to go home that day. 

University and the future was looming. 

She was a little higher than him in the bed and she played with his hair as he dozed. His nose skimmed her collarbone and it would only take the tiniest shift to press his lips to her skin. He didn't. Her fingers slid down his nose and he tilted his face back to look at her with a sleepy smile on his face. 

"I suppose you need to get up for work," he said. 

"Saturday," she said. 

"Oh, right, I like Caturdays," he said and she flicked his nose for the pun. "So how long can we stay like this?"

"I need to watch the shop after lunch, so I could stay in bed until at least ten," she said, "You don't have something important?"

"I'm going through a rebellious phase. I'm going to skip swimming lessons and my English teacher will only wait five minutes before he just bills my father and leaves," he said. 

"You have tutors on Saturday mornings in July?" she asked. 

"Mmhmm," he said. 

He leaned into her hand as it moved down his neck. He was mostly awake but some parts of his body were more waking up faster than others. He pulled away so he could lie on his back and be a little less pressed against her. It wasn't going to help but at least he wouldn't be advertising it to her. 

They were not like that. 

They slept in the same bed but they'd been doing that since they were kids. It was not anything more than that. She was his best friend, not his girlfriend. While he sometimes flirted like they were, it was a boundary he wasn't going to push. 

She took his rolling over as an invitation. Her hand kept going once it finished tracing down his neck. She smoothed his rumbled t-shirt down across his chest. She was petting, almost absently, the way you might pet a cat. It wasn't meant to be erotic but his body had decided it didn't care about what she meant. He shut his eyes and tried to think about other things. It almost worked but then her hand's pattern of lazy circles moved farther down and her palm against his stomach, even through the shirt, made him shudder. 

"Are you alright?" she asked. 

"Yeah," he said but his voice came out a little wrong, too breathy. 

"I can stop," she said. 

He sighed as she pulled her hand back. He did not want her to stop but he also didn't want to admit where his thoughts were. She was propped up on one elbow over him and her hair was a mess. It had been pushed up on one side and he reached out and combed his fingers through the tangle until it started to lie back down. She watched him as he did it.

"Or you could ask," she said. 

"Ask?" he repeated. 

"Yeah, ask me," she said. 

"Ask you for what?" he said. 

She laughed and pushed herself up in one easy movement and landed over him. Her hands on either side of her head and her face above his. She stopped short of swinging her leg over him. They were too tangled in the sheets for her to get that close. She gave him a little smile and his entire ability to think had short circuited. He no longer understood anything about how words or even coherent thoughts worked. 

He was an idiot. This was not anything special. They had had pillow fights and shoving matches that involved far more touching than this. She wasn't touching him at all but she was close and it felt different. He was supposed to ask for something. Since he didn't know what it was, he just stared like the idiot he was.

"Sorry," she said after a moment of holding the eye contact. 

Marinette was blushing. He wasn't sure he had ever seen her blush like this before. She was the calm and collected one. On some instinct - because it certainly wasn't a conscious thought - he reached out and looped his arm around her waist as she started to pull away from him. She came back to rest against his side immediately. Her knee was over his and her hand was back on his chest but she was giving him a look that was almost wary. 

"No, no, no. Don't be sorry," he said. 

"I'm making you uncomfortable," she said. 

"Not in a bad way," he said. 

"How can you be uncomfortable in a good way?" she asked. 

"I'm uncomfortable in a 'I don't know what you want' way," he said. 

She tilted her head at him and pursed her lips like he was an unexpected piece in a puzzle. The smile playing around the edges of her mouth was going to cut off his access to proper thoughts again and he didn't know why. She was his Ladybug and she was the person he knew best. This was where he usually went when he was anxious. Being close to her was all it took to calm him down. Always. Except today. 

"Adrien?" she said. 

"Yes?" he said. 

"I'm going to be the one to ask," she said. 

"Ask me anything, always, you can always..." he said. 

"Can I kiss you?" she cut him off with a finger on his chin. 

Words failed him, again. Instead, he reached up and very carefully, very gently, let his palm settle against her cheek. She was still blushing and her skin was warm. She was so warm. He pulled and she giggled as she leaned in. They hovered for a moment. She was breathing against his mouth, her lips barely parted and her eyes half shut. 

This was something they didn't do. The weight of the coming change was there in the back of Adrien's mind. There would be no going back, not for him. Once he let this cat out of the bag, he was never going to be able to go back to pretending he didn't want it. He wanted this kiss more than he had wanted anything in a very, very long time. 

He pulled her in and tried to pretend he knew what he was doing. 

Adrien had once kissed a girl for a magazine shoot but that hadn't really felt like a kiss. It had been as staged as anything else during a photo shoot. He had been fifteen and his father had thrown a fit over it and the pictures had been buried. He'd never even seen them. He had also been kissed but it had never been a participatory act. It tended to happen at industry parties and it tended to involve either drunk people or Chloe Bourgeois and he didn't particularly enjoy it. 

This wasn't the same at all. Being kissed and kissing were different. 

Marinette melted into him and she was soft and gentle. All his fluttering anxiety vanished. Her mouth glanced against his but she was smiling too much for it to really be a kiss. She leaned her forehead against his and giggled before she tried again. This was a kiss. Her mouth against his and it didn't seem to matter that he was clumsy. She had enough grace for both of them. 

It lasted a long time and it wasn't one thing. He'd always thought of a kiss as a thing you did with your lips. 

This was far more than that. It was her hands in his hair and his arm around her back. It was the soft little noise she made just as she opened her mouth and pressed in closer. It was him hesitating and her sweeping all the hesitations away by giving him exactly what he wasn't sure how to ask for. It was the way she leaned her head back when he couldn't quite get up his courage to kiss her throat. It was her pulse hammering beneath her skin while his mouth lingered. It was his heart beat trying to match that same rhythm. Mouths and hands and hearts. 

When they stopped, she rolled onto her back and lay beside him. Shoulder to shoulder. Just like they'd done since they had first met. There was no going back and the weight of that finally hit him. She was his best friend and he was never going to be able to go back to what they had. He would never be able to look at her and not remember this moment. 

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," she said. 

"Me too, so much," he said. 

She laughed again and he rolled into her so he could press his face against her skin again. She wore a t-shirt and shorts and he wanted to pull it all away so there was more skin to touch but that felt like more than he could ask for. He settled for nuzzling her neck and wrapping his arm around her waist. He found  place where his hand could not-so-accidentally settle on a bit of bare skin where her shirt had ridden up over her hip.

He had forgotten in the rush of sensations everywhere else that he was hard. He was harder now than before the kiss. He turned scarlet but didn't move. As if forgetting how to speak wasn't bad enough, now he could add forgetting how to move to the list. Why did love songs always make “the things you do to me,” sound like something romantic. This wasn’t romantic. 

His cock was pressed against her leg. He wondered if you could die of embarrassment or if that was just a figure of speech. He'd never had someone else pressed against him during a moment like this and it was bringing up all kinds of desires he wasn't sure he was ready to give names. He was frozen in place by it all. 

"Hi," she said. 

The spell broke. He swore and pulled away in a rush of stuttering apologies. 

"You don't need to apologize. Really. I'm the one who started it," she said. 

She followed him before he could get too far. He was floundering and graceless, the blankets were tangled, and he didn't really want to be anywhere but in her arms. He stumbled and landed on his back and she followed him down. He fell still and silent and she lay on top of him. Stretched out with her fingers laced together in the middle of his chest and her chin resting on the back of her hand. 

"You're blushing," he said. 

"Not as much as you are," she said. 

He coughed out a laugh. Even though his body was still too aware of her, the touch made him feel better. She was lying low on his body so as his hardness was against her stomach. It was less terrifying than it might have been to have her straddle him but it was almost more intimate. Her skin there was soft enough and sensitive enough that she smiled at him when he tensed and made it move. He wasn't quite sure how to not do that again. 

"Was this part of your devious plan?" he asked. 

"No," she said, "I hadn't even planned to kiss you until you looked at me like that."

"Like what?" he asked. 

"Like that," she said trailing a finger along his lower lip. He tensed again. She was heavy enough and he was sensitive enough that it was bordering on pain to have her pressing into him there but he was not going to be the one who asked her to move. 

"I don't know how I'm looking at you," he admitted. 

"Like you want to kiss me again," she said. 

"Oh, that, I thought you meant something unusual," he drawled and it came out as flippantly as he had intended. 

"Am I bothering you?" she asked. 

"No! What? No," he said.

"I meant," she said and then rather than telling him, she twisted her hips. It made her entire body move. Just a little bit. But a little bit was enough. He gasped. It was too much and not enough all at once. He ached and she wasn't giving him enough to make it better. She grinned and did it again and this time he moaned. He snapped his mouth shut. Just realizing he had made that sound brought him back down to earth. 

"Oh, that, well, I," he was trying to come up with something to say. Flippant and flirty would have been his first choice but apparently he couldn't even get to words with more than one syllable. He closed his eyes. His hands had developed a mind of their own. He wasn't sure when it had happened but they were on her hips and he was holding her close. He relaxed his muscles but didn't let go. He was going to leave bruises on her if he grabbed her that hard. She didn't seem to notice. 

"Make it simple, how about a Q and A? Like those stupid interviews you're always doing for gossip magazines," she said. 

"Ok," he said. 

"Should I get up?" she asked. 

"No."

"You like this, right?" 

"Yes."

"Can I touch you?"

"Yes. Where?"

"You should probably ask that question before you say, 'yes.'"

"Ok, fine, but it doesn't matter. I don't care. Yes, then. Just yes. I trust you. You can touch me anywhere."  
    
"You are a hazard to yourself. I could be into nasty stuff, maybe you don't want to offer me anywhere." 

She let her head fall to his chest as she laughed. He kissed her hair and wrapped his arms the rest of the way around her. A hug. Just horizontal and so turned on that she was absolutely right, he was a hazard. He was prepared to do anything she asked, nasty or not. Surprisingly, that made him feel better again. He would do anything she asked and he was completely content to give her that power. 

"If I have to put myself at someone's mercy, I'm happy to have it be you. Besides, I think we already established that you started it," he said. 

"Does that mean you're going to finish it?" she asked him. 

"If you keep doing that thing with your hips, I'm going to finish it before it even gets start-" he said. 

He got all the words out before he choked on the last one. 

He coughed. He had actually said that out loud. His face was burning and he tightened his hold on her and buried his face in her hair. She calmed him down regardless of what was freaking him out. She was capable of being the source of and solution to, all of his problems. She wrapped her arms around his back, making him arch a little to allow her to slip them below him. 

"Wouldn't want that," she said. 

"So tell me what you do want," he said nuzzling in until he was whispering in her ear. 

"Not all the way but farther than this. I haven't got any kind of protection, so we're not doing anything that would need it,” she said. 

“Pretend I’m idiot,” he said. 

“Done,” she interrupted. 

“Listen, smart ass,” he said. 

She interrupted him again with a finger on his lips, “I want to make you moan again. I want to be this close but with a lot less clothing. I want you to kiss me again.” 

“Two way street,” he said. 

“That sounds like a euphemism for something dirty,” she said. 

“You want to make me moan and are threatening me with "nasty" and you’re concerned that I might be saying something dirty?” he asked. 

She exhaled hard in an exaggerated bit of exasperation. She did the hip twist again, making him gasp and grab hold of her again. He rolled over and took her with him. It was easy. She was little and already wrapped around him. All he had to do was flip her. Marinette yelped and then started to laugh. It set him off as well and they giggled together until he caught her face between both his hands and she fell still. 

“What I meant,” he said, “Was that I don’t want to be the only one moaning. If you’re taking off my clothes, I want to take off yours.” 

She nodded and her confident little smile was back. She pulled him back down to kiss with an elbow crooked around his neck. The kiss started harder than the last one. She was holding on and keeping him close. He was pinning her to the bed but it still felt like she was the one taking the lead. She grabbed a fistful of his shirt and he stilled. She didn't. She kissed him very slowly and waited. 

He had told her yes and he meant it. He pulled back and took the shirt off. The self-consciousness rushed up his throat and he tried to lie back down. She stopped him. Her hand was warm and gentle on his breastbone and he froze in place. She smiled and ran her palm down his bare skin to his navel. He needed to remember to breathe or he was going to pass out. 

"I like you better in person than in the magazines," she said. 

"They airbrush all the worst parts out in the magazines," he said. 

"Not possible, you don't have a bad part," she said, "I like you better without airbrushes and photoshop." 

He smiled at that. He'd been there for the retouching meetings on some shoots. They'd pick apart each photo and make notes for the digital artists to fix later. He could catalog all his physical flaws with alarming accuracy and wasn't used to being looked at like this without makeup and lighting and photoshop. He grinned down at her, she was still exploring with small and careful hands. 

"You're not kitten, I'm pawsitively beautifur," he said. 

"I am not so turned on that I won't push you out of bed," she said. 

"Beautifur was too much?" he asked because if he thought about the first half of her sentence too much his ability to speak was going to vanish again.

"Just a bit," she said.

"Noted," he said. 

She sat up and pressed a kiss to his chest and his eyes fluttered shut. The line of kisses were light and soft down his body. Her hands followed. She paused with both palms on the lowest part of his stomach. He was wearing sweatpants and they weren't hiding much about his arousal. 

Marinette looked up at him with that little smile on her lips again. She slid her hands down and hooked her fingers into the elastic at his waist. The feeling of her knuckles against his hips bones shivered up through him. 

"I don't have any idea what I'm doing," she said. 

"Neither do I but I am really enjoying it. ," he said. 

"Lie on your back again," she said. 

He flipped back onto the bed, forgetting that she was still holding onto his pants. He nearly undressed himself in the least graceful possible way. They were both laughing as she pulled the rest of his clothing off. The laughter eased his nerves until he looked down at her. She had a half smile on her face as she ran her hand down his bare thigh but didn't touch him there yet. She bit her lip. Her eyes darted away and then back, to his body then to his face and then to the window. 

"Come closer," he said. 

She lay down beside him again. She wore shorts and the hiked up t-shirt so when her leg touched his, it was bare skin to bare skin. He was a bundle of electric nerves and desires held together by some tattered shreds of self control. Once she was close enough to kiss a line up his neck, he relaxed again. Her hand wandered downward. He kissed her forehead as she ran her tongue along his pulse. 

Her fingers brushed the tip of his cock and he shivered and pulled her in tighter. Her leg was wrapped around his and she was pressed into his side. She kissed her way up to the corner of his mouth, silent but demanding. He kissed her as she wrapped her hand around him. His entire body shuddered and he kissed her harder. 

Marinette was gentler with him than he usually was with himself and that was the only comparison point he had for this feeling. Gentle and consistent. Keeping his hips still was hard. He wanted to take the control back, he wanted to thrust back against her hold and force her to go faster. He didn't. He had made his decision, he let her do what she wanted. She went from stroking to trailing her fingers over the details. He'd never been so aware of his skin or the lines of his body. 

He finally cracked and whispered into her mouth, "Harder, please, you're stronger than that Bug." 

She closed her hand around him again and this time it was tighter and while she went just as slow, it wasn't as teasingly gentle. His body was reacting before his mind could catch up to it. He wasn't able to hold himself still. He held onto her and broke the kiss because he couldn't concentrate on it. They were forehead to forehead, nose to nose and he was moaning for her just like she'd asked him to. He tried to keep it quiet, to bite off anything louder than a whisper but it was hard. 

Adrien came with a gasp and turned his entire body into her. He was pushing into her hand as he held her against him. Release and relief and the intense desire to keep her there forever rolled through him. He nuzzled in until he could press his face against her throat. His hands had slid up her spine, under her shirt because touching her skin had somehow become essential to his survival. 

"Adrien?" she asked. 

"That was amazing," he said. 

He held her while she went back to petting him. Her fingers in his hair, over his shoulders, down his back and his hips and his thighs until she couldn't reach any farther. He didn't so much decide to start anything as he realized that he had the option of taking her clothes off so he did. Her eyes were blue and soft and he held her gaze when he slipped his hands up her stomach and pushed her shirt higher. She arched her back and raised her arms but let him take it off. 

Pale and narrow with faded crisscrossing tan lines on her shoulders from different tank tops or bathing suits or whatever it was that she wore. He couldn't remember things like his own name at that moment let along what kind of clothing Marinette wore. He kissed her shoulder and she squirmed away to lay back against the pillows. She didn't seem nearly as nervous as he felt. She was all smiles and she kept reaching out to touch his face or his hair or his chest. Little glancing touches. Brief and soft and reassuring. 

There were things he wanted to say to her while she was laid down like that before him but his breath caught and he couldn't say anything. Not yet but he would. He tried to put it into touch but it was hard to translate that much emotion into words let alone into the way his hands held her. She smiled like she understood him. 

"Can I?" he asked.

He had run his hands along her arms and her shoulders and down her back. He had touched her like this before but she was lying down and that wasn't the same thing. His hands hovered at her knees. She had ben them up and without meaning to, he was sitting between them. He was naked. He'd forgotten that he was naked until he was staring at her and how very close to naked she was. 

"Yes, very yes, absolutely yes," she said. 

He let his hands fall to her knees and then ran them up her body very slowly. The muscles in her thighs shifted as he touched them, tensing and relaxing and then tensing again as his hands went higher. She spread her knees and even though she was still wearing the shorts it was enough to short circuit his thought processes all over again. 

Even the lines of muscle in her stomach felt soft and vulnerable under his fingers. He let his hands linger where her body dipped in at the waist and then he slowly climbed up her rib cage. She moved with him the entire time, twisting and pushing into his hands. He cupped her breasts and she murmured something indistinct and happy. 

Her hands stroked his and then loosely braceleted his wrists. She held him but didn't take back the control. He kept his hands where they were, gently circling her nipples with his thumb and watching her squirm and smile. 

He carefully lifted their hands together and put them above her head. She frowned in surprised as he lay down on top of her. So much skin against his. He smiled and just held her there. Her knees were spread so when he lay on top of her, they were pressed together from their hips all the way to where his cheek rested against hers. He rubbed his face against hers and smiled. She let him hold her for a stretched out moment before she twisted against him. 

"Chat," she said. 

A long time ago, she had called him by his costumed name more than his real one but these days it was only when she was particularly annoyed or concerned. He pulled back until he could see her face. She twisted her hips and frowned at him. It was almost the exact same movement she'd used to tease him before. 

"Yes, my Lady?" he said. 

"Are you doing this on purpose?" she asked. 

"Maybe," he said with a grin. 

He wasn't. He had no idea what he was doing. She twisted again and sighed and it finally clicked into place. She was a girl and her arousal wasn't something as easy to see as his was but now that he was looking, he could tell. It was there in the flush that spread across her cheeks and her chest and the little movements that were all about pressing her skin into his and nothing else. Her teeth sinking into her lower lip. The nervous look in her eyes. 

He nearly panicked. He had no idea how to give her what she wanted. He started by letting go of her hands. She stayed stretched out below him and her eyes were serious as that playful smile was back on her lips. While he was busy sitting stock still and freaking out about what one did with a girl in bed, she arched her back and lifted her hips and suddenly she was naked. He wasn't even sure how she'd managed to do it one movement but she dropped her shorts off the edge of the bed and gave him a grin.

"Mari?" he said. 

"I want you close, anything else isn't as important," she said holding out her arms. 

He lay back down with her so they could cuddle in face to face on their sides. They'd fallen asleep like this before. He repeated what she had done to him. He pet her skin and played with her hair and waited for her to relax before he brought his hands near more intimate places. She moved with him, anticipating where he wanted her before he had even figured it out. Or maybe, if he was being honest, she was telling him what to do without using a single word. 

She draped one leg over his hip. It let them stay on their sides, nose to nose and gave him enough room to reach between her legs. He had heard people talk about girls being wet. He hadn't realized it was literal. He found warm soft skin and then slick wet skin. She murmured when he touched her there. The desire was there, to flip her back and push the blankets away until he could see what he was doing but it wasn't as strong as the desire to keep her this close. 

He was fumbling around by touch alone. Rubbing and teasing and testing. He watched her face as he did. She didn't leave him guessing. She murmured and smiled at the things she liked and very softly pushed him away from the things she didn't. He kissed her over and over. Every time she opened her mouth in a gasp. As he got better at it, he pressed a kiss to her lips with every groan. 

He paused. 

"So should I do that again?" he asked. 

"No stopping," she told him. She had her arms around his neck and she pulled him in closer when he stilled. He smiled and kissed her again as he went back to what he had been doing with his fingers. He rubbed harder. 

"Adrien," she gasped. 

She was moving with him now and it made it harder to keep to keep his hands in place. He had figured out how to get the strongest reaction from her but it was hard to manage when her hips didn't stay in place. Her fingers tightened in his hair and she hid her face away against his chest. 

She gasped out his name again as she shuddered and arched into his touch. It took him by surprise but he didn't stop until she twisted away and pushed at his hand. She was breathing hard and the tremors were still running up her body. He rubbed her back as she rested her head against his chest. 

They didn't let go for a long time. She traced patterns on his skin and he kept smoothing down her hair in the same repetitive pattern. He shifted when his arm fell asleep and she stretched out her leg when it got stiff from being tangled with his but they didn't move away from each other.  

"Do you know what this means?" Marinette asked. 

"No," he said frowning at the top of her head. 

"It means you owe me a real date," she said. 

He laughed, "Can I take you somewhere expensive and elaborate?" 

"Seriously?" she said. 

"Yeah, romantic comedy kind of elaborate. Flowers and dinner and I'm sure if I look hard enough I can find someplace with an old fashioned dance hall. You could get all dressed up in one of those post-war dresses with the polka dots and the twirly skirt," he said. 

"You've thought about this before," she said. 

"Yeah," he admitted, "I've got a few plans up my sleeve and I had really cute plans on how to ask you out but I couldn't get my courage up to do it."

"My top choice was picnic on the top of the arc de triomphe at sunset. I wasn't going to ask you out exactly, I was just going to set it all up and then have you meet me up there," she said. 

"You had dates planned for me?" he asked. 

"Yeah, I've had a bit of a crush on you for awhile now," she said. 

"Ask me," he said. 

She laughed. 

"No, seriously, ask me," he said. 

"Will you go out with me?" she asked. 

"Oh, hell no," he said. 

She reached out and grabbed a pillow and bashed him across the face without looking. She got in two more good hits before he wrestled it away from her. They were both laughing and his body was pretty sure it wanted to do everything all over again. 

"I love you and I will go anywhere with you," he said once he'd pinned her back against the mattress and pushed any pillows out of the way so she couldn't use them as weapons anymore. 

"I love you too," she said before he could start to panic that he had said it aloud. 

He kissed her. They were naked and all the sheets and blankets were rucked up and shoved around them but she was smiling as she kissed him back. They stayed like that - kisses and skin on skin - until her phone beeped and told her she needed to leave for her shift at her parent's bakery. 

They kissed again before she left him alone in her bed to scurry around getting washed up and dressed. He smiled at her the entire time. 

"Chat?" she asked pausing at the door, fully dressed and presentable and the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

"Yeah?" he said from where he still sat in the tangled blankets. 

"I do love you," she said it again. 

"I love you too," he said through a grin. She returned it before she left. He just sat and smiled at the space where she had been. He was going to be smiling like an idiot for days, maybe years, decades if he could manage it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hat tip to the Simpsons for that "cause of and solution to all life's problems line" though I am pretty sure it was about beer in the original and not pretty girls. Oh and did you catch the most obnoxious sentence of alliteration I have ever written in my entire life. It's terrible but it is so terrible that I couldn't delete it, a little like a Chat Noir Pun: so bad it's good. 
> 
> Aren't you glad you read the author's notes for these thrilling additions to the story?
> 
> I have no idea where Tikki and Plagg are while this is going on. Probably sitting outside and pretending that they are deaf. Or possibly sitting outside having a conversation that boils down to "Finally figured it out did they? Those idiots!"


	2. Chapter 2

Marinette had every window open but it didn't help. The summer air wasn't moving. There wasn't a breeze in the city and the heat was heavy across Paris. She had a sketchbook open and a half finished design in front of her. Her head was full of ideas but the heat made it slow and muggy and she couldn't seem to draw anything that looked passable. She also hadn't had any luck sewing or playing video games or reading. They needed to fix the air conditioning in the apartment or she wasn't going to survive the rest of this heat wave. 

"What are you working on Princess?" 

His voice was right at her ear and she jumped and yelped and fell off her chair in one movement. It wasn't graceful. She blinked up from the floor. Her sundress was hiked up to her thighs and one knee was still hooked over the seat of her wheeled office chair. Chat Noir, of course he was still in the suit, looked down at her. 

Considering. 

She could almost feel his gaze like a touch on her body, up one leg and down the other. She was wearing the pink dress and a pair of panties and nothing else. She had been naked with him only two days before but the way he was smiling at her made her shy. She pulled herself free of the chair and fixed her skirt and glared up at him from where she sat on the floor. He held out a hand and she let him pull her up. 

"Is the heat not killing you in all that black leather?" she asked. 

"I don't think it's real leather," he said, "It's actually better than walking down the street like a normal person. You should try it, it's better in the suit. Or just go outside. You're not an indoor kitty, it is worse in here than it is out in the rest of the city. It's actually hotter inside." 

"I know," she complained. 

"Should I take your mind off it?" he asked. 

"No, horny kitten, no, I don't want to be touched that much. I can't even handle having my hair touch the back of my neck in this heat," she said. 

"I can take your mind off it without too much touching," he said with a grin. 

As Adrien he'd been nervous about kissing her, but with the transformation on him and he was suddenly far more confident. She took two steps in so that her body was against his. He blinked at her slowly and she cracked a grin. He wasn't as confident as he pretended to be and that made her want to tease him. She tilted her head and pursed her lips and watched his attention jump from her mouth and then slide down her neck to the edge of the dress.

"What does that mean?" she asked. 

"Anything you want it to," he was grinning again. 

"No, you started it this time, so you're the one calling the shots," she said crossing her arms and tilting her chin back to look at him. He had gone from a little taller than she was to tall enough she had to look up at him over the last year. His mouth started to pull up on one side then the other before he licked his lips and leaned down so his nose brushed hers. Maybe he was more confident that she thought he was. 

"Sit down," he said. 

He grabbed her chair without looking and spun it around until it was behind her. She held his gaze as she sat down. It meant tilting her chin back farther as she got lower. He leaned over her, still Chat Noir, and kissed her gently. She slipped her hands up into his hair and pulled him down harder. He responded immediately, matching his kiss to hers and bracing his hands on the arms of the chair. He pushed down towards her and the chair skittered backwards, unbalancing them both.

The kiss dissolved into laughter. He sighed and frowned at the chair before pushing it back against the wall. He considered her and then pushed her down along the wall until the chair was wedged in the corner. 

"I have furniture that isn't on wheels you know," she said. 

"This is more fun," he said. 

He dropped to his knees in front of her and a thrill ran up her spine. He was still smiling, smiling like he couldn't stop and she could feel a flush rising in her cheeks. It was already sweltering. He was going to kill her if he kept looking at her like that. Her body temperature was climbing even though she was pretty sure it couldn't be any hotter without killing her. She was still expecting him to change back but he didn't show any interest in it. 

He had claws. She forgot that until he put his palms on her knees she could feel them against the skin of her thighs. Gentle. He wasn't a threat. It didn't meant those points against her weren't electric. Ten little points that she knew were sharp enough to hurt her. That knowledge and how very gentle he was being was enough to make her shiver. He nudged her knees apart. She couldn't breathe as he did it. His hands slip up her thighs and the claws dragged as he pushed her dress higher and then higher again. 

"Do you like these?" he asked tracing the hem of her panties with a claw. He didn't use the soft part of his finger, he used the sharp edge and it shorted out her thoughts. She had no idea what underwear she was wearing. Something comfortable that didn't fit too tightly in the heat. That was all she could remember. 

"Not really," she said. 

"Then I guess, I'm doing you a favour," he said. 

She nodded because she didn't want him to stop and he held her gaze. His claw hooked into the panties at her hip and she heard the fabric rip. She barely felt it but it still made her gasp. He did the other side, just as slow and she gasped again. He pulled the scraps of fabric away from her body and dropped them on the floor.

She had been naked with him the other day but not like this. He'd pushed her knees wide and with her underwear gone and her skirt hiked up to her hips, she was vulnerable like this. She was struck by a hundred thoughts at once about what exactly she looked like down there. She didn't really know. What if that part of her body was particularly hideous? 

Chat smiled and kissed her knee then worked up her thigh in a slow line. She slipped down in the chair so she could spread her knees a little farther. The feeling of his lips on her skin was enough to unseat the nerves. She pulled one leg out of his hand and lifted it up over the arm rest of the chair. It was a precarious position. If he let go of her, she was going to be so unbalanced, she would fall but it didn't occur to her to worry about that. 

This was her Chat Noir, her Adrien, he wouldn't drop her. 

He was nuzzling the skin at the top of her thigh. She hadn't thought about her legs much before but they dipped in right before thighs became other things and his nose was right there. It was a sensitive little hollow and she murmured and shifted her hips at the contact. She didn't have anywhere to shift. One leg was up over the chair and the other was securely held at the knee with those very gentle claws. 

He licked her. 

It wasn't something elegant. He licked her skin the way he might have licked an ice cream cone. A drag of tongue over flesh. She cried out and stared down at him. Most of his face was hidden from her by her own body. The bunched up fabric of her skirt was between her and his face but she could still see those green eyes as he did it again. She murmured again and pressed her hips a little wider. 

He didn't have any kind of master plan that she could identify. He licked and nuzzled and experimented. She didn't know what she wanted or what she liked until he stumbled onto something good. Long licks were nice and made her smile and close her eyes and try to press into him. The first time he sucked, she cried out loud enough that she clapped both hands over her own mouth because someone was going to hear her. He laughed and then sucked harder. Long strokes of tongue, sharp moments of suction that lasted almost too long. Sometimes both. Sucking and licking and it all going on so long that it made her back arch and her body shudder. 

She let her head loll back and stopped worrying about falling off the chair. He was holding her up and that was fine. Her fingers were in his hair and she was surprised when he did change back. Chat Noir fell away and she opened her eyes in time to see Plagg look at her with an utterly unreadable expression on his strange little face before he zoomed away. Self consciousness rolled through her but Adrien was there between her legs and his hands were soft. He was all skin and her body needed the skin on skin contact like it needed air. 

"Adrien?" she murmured. 

"I'm not done with you yet," he said. 

He kissed her spread knee, the one that was thrown up over the arm of the chair. Now he was using his fingers, rubbing and stroking. He prodded very gently as he explored. He rested his cheek against her thigh as he got to know in detail which touches made her squirm. He slid a single finger right up to the entrance to her body and she tensed. 

"No?" he asked. 

"Try it," she said. 

"You're sure?" he asked. 

"They say it hurts," she said forcing her eyes open to look at him. His eyes were as green as they'd ever been but not quite the same as Chat Noir's. Same boy. Different face. 

"I won't hurt you, if it hurts, tell me and I'll stop," he whispered against her skin. 

She nodded and the feeling of that finger pushing in made her bite her lip but it didn't hurt. It felt weird. One finger wasn't enough but it was still him inside her. He felt around. Sliding in, sliding out. Stroking her from the inside and even if it wasn't what she imagined it would feel like, it made her sigh. His mouth came back once she'd relaxed into the feeling of him being inside her. Lips and tongue and hand. She blinked her eyes opened and ran her fingers through his hair as he watched her. 

He pushed her over into a shuddering orgasm that unbalanced her perch on the chair. He had to catch her and pull her into his arms to keep her from crashing to the floor. His mouth was wet when he pressed a kiss to her cheek. She held onto him and he sat back and carefully rearranged her limbs until he could hold her comfortably in his lap. She lay her head on his shoulder and groped for his hand. She laced her fingers with his. One of them was wet against hte back of her hand. 

"I thought it was too hot for this," he said. 

"It is," she said into his neck, "But if you let go of me after that, I'm not going to forgive you." 

"I'm right here," he said. His arms tightened around her and she snuggled in and let herself enjoy the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in a smutty mood this month. February is smut month in Asha-land. 
> 
> I write fluffy porn when I am stressed. So 2016 might be a smutty year start to finish. 
> 
> There's not going to be a plot for this story, just a lot of screwing around whenever I need someplace to off-load my smutty impulses.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A semi-necessary translation of the children's rhyme that is somehow central to the smut I wrote. (this is me, shaking my head at myself) 
> 
> Coccinelle, demoiselle,  
> \--Ladybug, damsel,  
> Bête à bon Dieu.  
> \--One of God’s creatures   
> Coccinelle, demoiselle,  
> \--Ladybug, damsel  
> Vole jusqu'aux cieux.  
> \--Fly up to the sky.  
> Petit point blanc, elle attend.  
> \--Little white dot, she waits.  
> Petit point rouge, elle bouge.  
> \--Little red dot, she moves.   
> Petit point noir…  
> \--Little black dot….  
> Coccinelle, au revoir !  
> \--Ladybug good bye! 
> 
> Just remember that bouge means move and you'll be fine for making sense of this story.

Marinette knocked on his door and then started to bounce. There were cool people, people who didn't get anxious and over excited to be visiting their boyfriend. And then there was her. Who should have been used to it by now. He was her boyfriend. They went on dates and he sometimes sent her messages that just read things like, "Miss you, come see me" or "Do you want pizza? I want pizza" or "Going to be late, love you, see you at 10." 

Each time she opened one of them or wrote in the time for her date or picked out a pair of shoes to wear on one of those dates, she had another moment of bubbling happiness. She was not cool but the happiness more than made up for it.   
   
He opened the door and she grinned at him. It was an embarrassingly wide grin. Not cool. She was not cool. And in one of those moments that always stopped her heart, he returned the smile. Just as wide, just as goofy, just as glad to see her as she was to see him and neither of them were cool. She was so glad that neither of them was cool.

This was only the second time she’d been to his apartment. He’d gotten the tiny little one bedroom apartment in preparation for university though he’d moved in as early as possible. He had had the keys for a week. He could have stayed at home. This wasn’t that much closer to the school than his father’s house but every time he talked about ‘his apartment’ he got this little smile on his face.

"Mademoiselle Coccinelle," he said with an exaggerated bow. 

"Really?" she said laughing. 

She stepped in and gave him a mock disapproving look but it only lasted a moment. He was a little rumpled with his t-shirt creased and his hair askew. He must have come home from the early morning shoot and taken a nap. Even his eyes looked soft. She reached out and pushed his hair back from his eyes. He never cut it until someone demanded it and dragged him into a barbers shop. 

"It's been in my head all day: Coccinelle, demoiselle, Bête à bon Dieu," he sing songed the words of the children's rhyme at her. She put her hand on his chest and pushed him back into the apartment. He was grinning as he kicked the door shut behind her. The soft look had become mischievous. He was far more adorable than any one person had a right to be. 

"Must you?" she asked. 

"Coccinelle, demoiselle, Bête à bon Dieu," he repeated but this time he kissed her between each word. Quick little pecks on her forehead, her cheeks, her nose. She was still laughing at him, still shaking her head. She let him get through another line, raining little kisses down the entire time, "Coccinelle, demoiselle, Vole jusqu'aux cieux," before she pulled away from him. 

"You are ridiculous," she said. She held up a finger and poked him in the nose, "I had important things to talk about and now I think I won't as you obviously can't take anything seriously." 

"I am very serious," he said and then he kissed the end of her finger. "Listen, the next line is very important: Petit point blanc, elle attend."

"I am not waiting on anything," she said but he'd looped his arms around her waist and pulled her in. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gave him an attempt at a stern face. He was still grinning and her attempts at seriousness fell to pieces. His smile became a smirk. 

"Petit point rouge, elle bouge," he said. 

"Chat Noir!" she said before he had a chance to start but it didn't stop him. He held her with one arm and tickled her along her ribs. She squirmed and he refused to let go and they both fell down into a heap on the couch. He rolled her over onto her back so she was pinned under him before he finally let her pull in a gasping breath. 

"You only call me Chat Noir when you're annoyed with me," he said. 

"You're more annoying when you're Chat Noir," she said. 

"Am I? Hmm. Where were we, I think it was: Petit point rouge, elle bouge," he said and tickled her again. She squirmed and kicked one leg loose of his weight but rather than using it for leverage to roll him off, she wrapped it around his waist and then tickled back until they were both thrashing but neither was willing to give up. 

He was even more ticklish than she was and his laughter gave way to gasping and trying to grab her wrists to make her stop. She was faster than he was and he couldn't manage to get hold of both of them at the same time. They were both laughing loud enough they were probably bothering the neighbours. 

"Peace," he finally said raising his hands and attempting to sit up. She used the space to get her other leg around his waist so that he couldn't get away. 

"Peace," she said. 

She reached up to grab a handful of his shirt and pull him back down. He lay over her, around her, his elbows braced on either side of her head. It felt like home.

"Petit point," he started and she gave him a dark look. He gave her his most innocent eyes, bright and wide. Then he exaggerated each syllable as he said, "Noir, coccinelle au revoir." 

Which would have been the end of it but he tried to flip them up off the sofa and she refused to let go of him. Rather than whatever graceful move he had planned, they wound up on the floor. Adrien on his back and her sitting over him with her legs still tangled around his waist. His eyes were wide and his breathing wasn't quite even. 

"Fine, then. Au revoir," she said and she started to get up. He caught her knees and shook his head. 

"Didn't mean it," he said. 

She settled back down over him and that soft look was back in his eyes. He reached up and touched her cheek with his fingers. She lay down over him and he held her face in both hands. He was staring and it unnerved her. All her fluttering Ladybug confidence scattered and she was just herself again.

"I never want to say goodbye," he said. 

"Me neither," she told him. 

Then he pulled her in close and kissed her very gently. Just a brush of lips and she melted. She kissed him harder and he smiled against her mouth and pushed his fingers back into her hair, pulling it down around them so he could play with it. She wanted more than fluttery kisses but she kept it slow. Each press of lips lingered before they moved on.

His hands wandered down out of her hair and along her back. She'd kissed him when he was Chat Noir and his claws tracing down her spine was something that she could never quite get out of her mind. He let his nails drag. It was just his fingers but even through her shirt it still made her shiver and press closer to him. 

She let her hands wander as well. She was more methodical than he was as she ran her fingers through his hair and traced patterns on his jaw and his neck. First one side then the other. She paused and looked at him. He frowned just a little before he opened his eyes, as though not sure why the kissing had stopped. She held his gaze and then leaned down and kissed the side of his neck, right where his pulse pounded beneath the skin. She looked back up at him. 

"Ok?" she asked. 

He nodded and leaned his head back a little farther for her. His head was back and his eyes closed and his hands had stilled on her waist. He held her carefully but the only distraction from what she was doing was his thumb rubbing absently at her hip bone. His skin was warm and smooth and smelled very faintly like soap. He wasn’t wearing cologne and just smelled like himself. 

"Can we talk?" she asked.

"Yes," he said without opening his eyes. 

"It's not really a lying on the floor kind of conversation," she said. 

"Ok," he said but he still needed to shake the cloudy look out of his eyes as he sat up. She got up first and held out a hand as she'd done hundreds of time as Ladybug. He gave her one of Chat Noir's smiles as he took it and let her pull him to his feet. Those smiles pulled entirely different reactions from her these days. He leaned in for another kiss and she pulled back, putting her finger up between their lips and shaking her head. 

"Talking. It’s the other thing you do with your mouth," she said. 

"There are lots of things I can do with my mouth," he told her. 

She laughed and smacked him in the shoulder which just made the grin wider. She tapped his lips. Soft and damp from kissing and her resolve to talk first faltered for a moment and all she wanted to do was kiss him again. She took a pointed step back and smiled at him.

"Shall we sit then?" he asked. 

He sat down, sitting up straight and properly like he was at some sort of business lunch. He'd smoothed away the grin but the look was still there in his eyes. She sat down on his knee. That wasn't quite what she had intended so she turned so she was facing him instead. The only way to do that comfortably was to straddle him. She sat back so that her knees were on either side of his thighs but she was sitting back so there was space between them. 

His flirting faltered. His eyes were a little wider and a little less mischievous. His hands fluttered like he wanted to touch her but wasn't sure if it was allowed. She held out her hands and he took them, lacing their fingers together and relaxing immediately. 

She did kiss him then. Leaned forward for a schoolyard kiss, as sweet and as reassuring as she could manage. 

"What are we talking about?" he asked when she pulled away. 

Marinette's confidence faltered. She had a plan all worked out but that was before he was sitting under her and holding onto her hands. 

"I've been thinking a lot lately," she said. 

"You're always thinking," he said. 

"About you," she paused, "And us." 

His expression collapsed. Guarded and defensive and oh so careful. His fingers tightened just a fraction on hers. Her heart broke as he pulled in a long slow breath before he nodded at her. All of that Chat Noir confidence was gone. He wasn't even the charmingly pretty model. He was a little boy and she had scared him. 

"Not like that," she said and he frowned at her and didn't relax. She leaned her head against his shoulder and muttered, "Ugh, why do I always ruin everything I try to say to you?" 

"Tell me, you can tell me anything," he whispered into her ear. 

"I'm actually, and this is just the littlest bit embarrassing, but I'm attempting to seduce you right now," she said. 

"Seduce me?" he laughed. 

"Shut up," she said. 

"You don't need to seduce me, I am yours heart and soul," he said and she could feel his lips against her ear as she kept her face against his shoulder. 

She started to giggle and her face was bright red though she was pretty sure her hair hid that from him. Her mouth was already moving though she hadn't decided what she was going to say yet. What came out was, "I was hoping to add body to that list and make it a full set." 

That hung in the air for a moment and she muttered a swear word into his shirt. She could actually feel his breathing change. He didn't say anything and she pressed her face in closer. Now how did she back off from that? What did the way his heart was racing mean? Had she ruined their perfect balance by asking for to much, too soon? Why was she so stupid sometimes? 

"You have my body, you know that,” he said.

“There are things we haven’t done,” she said without looking up. 

“There are always going to be things we haven’t done,” he said. 

“What I meant was I want to do some of those things,” she said. 

She started to giggle and she slid in closer so their bodies were pressed together. She kept her head on his shoulder but untangled her fingers from his so that she could put her arms around him. He held her and she could feel him looking at her. She'd opened the conversation and now he was waiting on her to continue it. She collected her thoughts and sat up so she could look at him. 

She was too aware of every inch of her body and doubly aware of every piece of her that was touching him. She was sitting on his lap and could feel his legs against her inner thighs. His hands were resting on her back, one low, right above the waistband of her jeans and the other a little higher. Her stomach was touching his. His shoulders were broad and delicate under her hands. Stronger than he looked but she could feel his shoulder blades and it left her with the illusion that he was fragile. 

“I don’t want to push you into anything,” he said. 

“I am pretty sure that I am the one pushing right now,” she said. 

“You don’t have to,” he said. 

“Well, you’re not doing it, so one of us has to,” she said. 

He laughed. 

“You’re not rushing me. If you’re holding off, if we’re not crossing that line because you don’t want to, that’s ok, tell me and we can wait but,” she took a moment to steady herself, “I want to.”

“What if it hurts?” he asked, “I heard it hurts for girls.”

“You’re not going to hurt me and if for some reason you do, I’ll tell you and you can stop. I don’t think the boy is supposed to be more worried about it than I am,” she said, “And I am not worried about it at all, just if you were wondering.”

“As you wish, My Lady,” he said. 

She laughed and buried her face against him again. He settled his arms around her and just held on. He was calmer to have it said aloud and she was the absolute opposite of calm. She sat back for a minute. It must have been a full minute, it felt like far too long but he kept smiling up at her. His head tilted back just enough to make him look vulnerable even with that little smile on his face. 

She climbed up off his lap and grabbed his wrist to draw him along with her. He hadn’t made his bed. He had had maids to do things like that for him before and now that he was living alone, all his bad habits were coming out. She’d been the one he’d called when he’d put dish liquid in his dishwasher and caused an explosion of bubbles. She ignored the rucked up duvet and haphazard pillows. She pushed him down to sit on the edge of the bed and then climbed back into his lap. He held her gaze until she was the one who gave in and kissed him. 

Her hands fumbled and she slowed herself down. He would happily spend an hour sitting here and kissing, she knew that, rushing wasn't going to help anything. She put her hands on his waist and slid back so her hands settled right above his hips. There was nothing but a thin t-shirt between her palms and his skin. He was warm and she could feel it. She left her hands there and kissed him slowly. He relaxed, he melted down until he had given himself over to her entirely. 

Once he was soft and slow and calm, she slipped her hands under the hem of his shirt and pushed it up. He sat up and let her take it off. There was no hesitation and no argument. She took her own off, barely breaking the kiss to do it. 

His hands were gentle when he got past his nerves and slid them up her sides from the waistband of her jeans to the band of her bra. Gentle but less tentative with every touch and she might as well have been melting into his hands. She nuzzled and encouraged, pushed and twisted into touches he wasn’t sure of until he stroked or squeezed hard enough to make her smile. 

His hands on her hips, on her ribs, across her stomach. He stopped again at the bra. She’d picked this one out with tonight in mind. Red and black, made of lace and satin. She was saving for college and didn't really have the money to spend on fripperies but the underwear matched and she had convinced herself it was an investment. An investment in the way Adrien Agreste was looking at her right now. 

“It’s the kind that opens from the front,” she told him and he went scarlet. 

She grabbed his face in both her hands and rolled him over. He was still blushing once she had him on his back. He didn’t argue with her. He let her put him anywhere she wanted. She felt a little thrill in her stomach at seeing him laid out like this and simultaneously so nervous and so focused on her. The rest of the world fell away because he looked at her like she was the entire world.  

“What do you want?” she asked. 

“Want?” he asked. 

“Yes. Have I gone too far? Do you want to go slower?” she asked.

“Slower?” he asked. 

She started to laugh. He looked confused. His eyes not quite all the way open. His lips pink and still parted from all the kissing. There was nothing of that Chat Noir bravado left. She’d pushed it all to the sides until all she was left with was a very unsure Adrien. 

“I’m talking about this seducing you project,” she said with a laugh and then poked him in the ribs like they were sitting on a rooftop trading jokes, “Keep up.” 

“Have you ever seen yourself with your shirt off?” he asked, “It’s very distracting.” 

“You have seen me with my shirt off before. Why is this suddenly different?” she asked.

“You aren't usually wearing lingerie like that,” he said. 

“You’re into that? Should I buy some more? Maybe a garter belt and the high stockings?” she was teasing but his expression shifted just a little and she stored that information away. 

“Only if you want to,” he said. 

“Right now I want to take the rest of my clothes off,” she said. 

“Are you offering a strip show?” he asked. 

She started to laugh. That was pure Chat Noir. He’d pushed his way through all of Adrien’s careful manners for that comment. She had been sitting up over him, arms braced on either side of his shoulders so she could see his face. She collapsed, buried her face in that juncture between his shoulder and his neck and just giggled. 

“I don’t know how to do a strip show but if that’s what you want,” she said once the laughter had calmed a little. 

“What were you offering then?” he asked. 

“I was thinking something more like you taking off all my clothes and then letting me take off all of yours. We have done that before, remember?” she said. 

“Oh,” he said, “Yeah, yeah, right.” 

She pulled herself up from the crook of his neck to see him composing his expression. It had been warm there, his whole body was warm but right there, where the blood beat close to the surface and his hair had been against her face, it had felt even warmer. She laid her body against his. His belt buckle jabbed into her bare stomach a little but she ignored that as she met his eyes. His hands closed around her waist again and it made her bold. 

“Unless you don’t want to,” she said and she started to get up.

“No, I do, I want to,” his hands tightened and he shook his head. She settled back down, pressed her hips down against his, sank her fingers into his hair. She was still learning how to speak this particular language of touches but he seemed to be getting the message. She asked him to hold her close and he wasn’t letting her down. 

“Please don’t leave,” he said. His voice had changed again softer and needier. Almost desperate. She gathered him in close again and kissed him. He kissed her back hungrily, there was nothing tentative in this press of mouth and tongue. 

When the kiss broke, it was only because they both needed to breathe. Marinette rolled onto her back. Her arm was still behind his neck because she had been holding his face a moment before. He followed her like he couldn’t handle being even that far away. He was always heavier than she expected. He was thin and wiry but even still he was a lot bigger than she was and the weight of his body over her trapped her in place. 

She tilted his face up with her hand on his jaw. He could have done anything he wanted to her but somehow it never felt like that when they were together. It always felt like he would do whatever she wanted. She kissed him again and he ground his hips down into hers as their mouths met. It pulled a gasp and then a groan and he kissed her through it all. She spread her knees as far as she could so anything he did, she felt with her entire body. 

She pulled him down, pressed up against him so that she could feel skin on hers. His stomach against hers, his hands on her lower back, hers on his shoulders. She was building a catalogue of all the pieces of this boy. All the little details that came together to make this one person. Narrow hips and broad shoulders, silk skin and tense muscles. Heavy breathing and the most adorable giggle imaginable when he was nervous.

“You’re my Adrien, my kitty cat,” she whispered into his ear as he kissed down her neck and his fingertips bit into her waist hard enough to skirt that line where it hurt. 

“I’m yours, I’ve always been yours, tell me you’re mine,” he muttered back. 

The words were indistinct against her skin. He didn’t stop the kiss to speak. His mouth was against the pulse on her throat and she was loosing any sense of anything that wasn’t him. 

“I am,” she told the top of his head. His hair was stuck to her lips but she kept talking into it as he licked a line down her throat to her collarbone. Her voice sounded thick and needy but that didn’t stop either of them, “I’m yours, Adrien. You’ve always called me ‘My Lady’ and it’s always been true. My Adrien, all mine.”

“My Marinette, all mine,” he said looking at her.

They lay like that for a long elastic moment. Nose to nose. Her mouth curled into an involuntary smile she couldn’t have wiped away if she’d tried. The fingers of her one hand were in his hair, her other hand lay against his spine where she could feel is chest expand with each breath. Both his arms were wrapped around her. She was pinned and was perfectly happy to be there.

“Keep going,” she told him. 

He did as he was told. His hands slid down to her waistband. She relaxed any last tense muscles. She didn’t want anything to make him think he wasn’t wanted. This was very wanted. His fingers groped a little as they found the button and the zipper on her jeans and she arched her back to let him pull them off. 

His hands on her legs were distracting. His palms cupped under her knees and then slid up her legs. She pushed her knees apart, arched her hips, murmured against his neck. None of it was enough and by the time he’d run his hands from hip to knee a few times, she understood why he hadn’t been able to answer her questions earlier. 

She arched and pushed her hips against him and his hands pushed them back down into the mattress. He chuckled and kissed her cheek and she pushed against the strength in those hands. 

“Adrien,” she whispered into his neck. She was pushing her hips into his hands, pressing her mouth against his neck. Her fingers twisted in his hair. 

She would have thought the message was very, very clear. 

Apparently it wasn’t. 

He pulled back, out of reach and far away from offering her what she wanted. He raised his eyebrows in a question. She looked up at him and tried to swallow back the wanton demands that he touch her, and kiss her and do other things to her that she didn’t really want to admit to knowing the words for. 

Frustration rippled through her. Why was he so polite? He was always so polite. She pushed at him and forced him to stand. He laughed as he backed away from the bed but the giggle died in his throat as she followed him and knelt down between his feet. He touched her hair but said nothing.

This was not something she had any experience with. Once some other boy had asked for it and she had gotten up and walked away from him. She had never, never, offered it. She didn’t know what the script was. She unbuttoned his jeans and looked up at him until he did the rest for her. He took off everything and kicked it all away. 

She pushed on his hips, making him take a step back so she could look at him. His face was flushed and it spread down across his chest. His stomach was tense. Each little needy gaspy breath was evident in those clenching muscles. He had narrow hips and muscular thighs and they felt so right under her hands. 

He was also hard. Very hard. It was wet at the tip and a darker shade than the rest of his skin. She took a moment to play with the hair at the base of it which was a darker gold than the hair on his head. 

He groaned. 

She didn’t know what you did like this but he was looking at her like he didn’t care. She licked a drip off the tip of his cock and he groaned again. Gasping and catching her head between his hands.

She hadn’t thought of it as anything new until he was holding her. She was on her knees in front of a naked boy. He was holding her head, not controlling, just weaving his fingers through her hair as she moved. She closed her eyes but didn’t stop. She licked up every drip that oozed from the tip of him and then closed her mouth on him and sucked as she slipped her mouth lower. 

His fingers tightened in her hair and his hips moved up to meet her. He hit the back of her throat and she almost gagged. She grabbed hold of his hips and held him still as she slid her mouth up and down his cock. The weight of that part of him against her tongue was delicious and unnerving. 

She was probably clumsy but she knew he wasn’t comparing her to anything. That knowledge was a kind of carte-blanche to experiment without worrying about judgment. She licked and then ran her fingers over him and watched him for reactions to see if she could figure out what he was enjoying and what he wasn’t. He kept his eyes closed and his mouth open and she saw him bite his lower lip when she sucked hard. 

He came in her mouth. It seemed to take him as much by surprise as it took her. His hands tightened and his hips flexed. It made her pull back in surprise as he went from pliable and passive to grabbing and pushing. She ended up with a mouthful that was salty and heady and more than she had expected. He dropped down to his knees with her and wrapped his arms around her and pressed his face into her neck. 

“I'm sorry,” he said. 

“I’m not,” she said. 

She groped past him and found a t-shirt and used it to wipe her chin while she giggled. Surprise and elation and a thrill of something she could only describe as triumph at having made him react like that. He was holding on tight and she played with his hair, ran her hands down the muscles of his back and kissed his shoulder until he’d calmed down. 

“Take me to bed?” she asked. 

“If you insist,” he said. 

He didn’t just help her to her feet. He stood and then picked her up, all in one movement. He laid her down on the bed and paused to look down at her for long enough that she reached for him and tugged at his wrist until he lay down beside her. He paused and then he rolled over on top of her instead. 

“You’re heavy,” she said but she didn’t push him away, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed his ear. 

“I’m going to need a minute before we go any farther,” he said. 

“I don’t mind,” she said. 

“Wouldn’t want you to be bored,” he said.

“Entertain me then, kitten,” she said. 

He giggled. It was almost sleepy. His voice was heavy as he slipped to the side and they relaxed together. His hands were wandering and all his nerves had evaporated. All his hesitation was gone. He nudged her legs apart and rubbed his hand between them without taking her underwear off. She murmured and pushed towards him.  

He slipped the fabric out of the way and she shivered when his fingers touched her. He started too gentle, he always started too gentle but she didn’t argue with him. He was good at this. She was already wet and he left behind tentative before she had to complain about it. He rubbed in circles hard enough to make her squirm. 

His fingers slipped inside her and she gasped and opened her eyes. He was watching her as he slowly pulled those two fingers out and then sunk them back in again. It wasn’t the same kind of sensation as the rubbing but it was nice. His eyes were bright green and she twisted her fingers into his hair, just to have something to hold onto. 

“Too gentle?” he asked. 

“Harder might be nice,” she said. 

It wasn’t until she tried to talk that she realized how far along her body was. She was relaxed and comfortable and enjoying it but her voice came out breathy and unsteady. He cracked a grin at her adjusted so he could use both hands. His fingers inside her picked up speed and his other hand teased at her clit before picking up speed there too. She bit her lip and groaned. 

“Petit point rouge, elle bouge,” he whispered in her ear, “Come on Coccinelle.”

She wanted to tell him off for bringing up the stupid poem again but his hands held all her attention, her attempt at words became a gasp. Her hips lifted a bit as he whispered encouragements in her ear as the gasp became a cry. He didn’t stop immediately and she was too uncoordinated in the throes of the orgasm to do more than ride it out. 

When he pulled his hands away, she fell back against the mattress. He kissed her before either of them could come up with something to say. Every time he did that to her, she was caught up in a swarm of reactions. She was caught but a wave of shyness and embarrassment that she’d let her body lose control like that but she also needed him close. Even her body was confused with its hammering heart rate and heavy lazy limbs.

“You’re adorable,” Adrien said. 

“Puppies are adorable,” she said. 

“They are,” he said. 

“I don’t think you’re allowed to use the same word for panting mostly naked women and puppies,” she said. 

“It fits,” he said. 

She rolled her eyes. “You’re  also the one reciting nursery rhymes at a time like this.”

“Coccinelle, demoiselle,” he started again and he kissed her between each word and she smiled along, kissing him back. He wiggled his fingers but she glared at him so he didn’t actually tickle her.  When he got to the end, he pressed a real kiss to her mouth, pushing her flat onto her back and rolling over her. 

He was naked, she’d forgotten that somehow, and he’d gotten hard again. The feeling of it against her skin sent a little shiver of anticipation racing up her body. She pulled back out of his arms a little bit and caught his face in her hands.

“Go get my bag,” she said. 

“Huh? Why?” he frowned down at her. 

“Because I bought protection,” she said. 

“Did you really?” he asked. 

“I bought lingerie and you’re surprised I bought condoms?” she asked, “I came with a plan.” 

“How’s it going?” he asked. He was laughing. 

“My seducing a superhero plan?” she asked and he nodded. “Pretty good so far. Any complaints?” 

“I’m having a cataclysmically good time,” he said. 

“Bag, go, fetch,” she said. 

“Woof,” he said against her ear but he didn’t argue about cats fetching. He simply rolled off her and went back to figure out where they’d left her bag. She watched him go and decided there were definite perks to him having his own apartment. She hastily remade his bed and sat down and waited for him. 

“I like you naked,” she said when he got back. 

To her surprise, he turned an alarming shade of red and choked on whatever words he was going to say. She held out both hands to him and forced her eyes to stay on his face as he crossed the room to her. He put her purse in her hands and she pushed it aside to take his hands. 

“I meant that as a compliment,” she said. 

“I know, I just, um, I, you know?” he said as he sat back down on the bed with her. 

“Yeah,” she said. 

“You’re fantastic naked too,” he said. 

That made her laugh. She ran a finger under her bra strap and said, “Then you should probably take off the rest of this clothing I’m wearing.” 

He fumbled with it but managed to get the clasp on the bra undone without needing her help. He paused to stare and she understood why he had turned so pink before. He looked over her body and his hands fell to her hips but he didn’t pull off her underwear just yet. 

“Do you think we’ll get used to it?” she asked. 

“The nakedness? Eventually, maybe, but I don’t think you’ll ever stop being stunningly beautiful,” he said. 

“Someday I’ll be old and wrinkly,” she said. 

“You’re going to to be gorgeous then too,” he said. 

“You think so?” she asked. 

“Yeah, yeah, definitely and I plan to be there to see it,” he said tugging on her panties.

They’d lost the momentum that had carried them through before and once she was naked they found themselves caught by a ridiculous wave of shyness. They lay under the blankets of his bed and giggled each time they couldn’t hold eye contact. He was blushing and she was tenser than she'd been since she'd entered the apartment. 

“Come a little closer,” she said. 

He did as he was told and she kissed him. Just lips. The space between their bodies still felt strangely inviolable even after everything they’d done so far. It held for a minute. It was a strange kiss. He was the one to break the distance. He pulled her in and kissed her properly and it was a relief. She stretched and tugged him in until their bodies were tight together. 

She swung her hips as much as she could while lying on her side and he jumped then pressed back. He had lost his erection but it was growing fast again and he rubbed it against her stomach. She groped for a condom and then paused. 

“Have you ever put one of these on before?” she asked .

“No,” he said, “I mean that terrible demonstration thing in health class but not on myself.” 

It was slimy and cold and she dropped it and then they were digging in bed for it while he laughed so hard at her that he had to roll onto his back and cover his face with his hands to catch his breath. His shoulders shook and she shoved him which only made him laugh harder.

“If you keep laughing at me, we’re going to try that thing where you stretch it to put over your head instead,” she said.

He rolled into her again, still grinning and kissed her through his laughter. He was blushing just a little bit and she realized he wasn’t really laughing at her. He was nervous. She pressed herself close and slowed him down again like she had when they’d first started. She still held onto the condom but her other hand was rubbing the back of his neck until she felt some of his tension start to ease. 

“Talk, kitten,” she said. 

“I’m fine,” he said. 

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” she whispered but she kissed him between the words like he had done during his last recitation of the stupid poem. 

“I don’t like being bad at things,” he said. 

“You’re not going to be bad at this,” she said. 

“And if I am?” he said. 

“Then we’re going to have to practice, a lot, daily if that’s what it takes,” she said. 

He laughed again but the anxiety that had been there in his face had fallen away. This was a more genuine laugh. When she lay back, he moved with her. He was all around her again and the nest of blankets blocked out anything else. It was just them. Cocooned together. They managed to get the condom on without losing it or becoming a giggling disaster. She was lying there under him but he was the one waiting on instruction or permission or just to have her take the lead. 

She held his cock gently and put him where she wanted him and then tucked her face down against his neck. If it did hurt, she didn’t want him to see pain on her face. He hesitated. 

“Please, Adrien,” she said. 

It did hurt but she was wet enough and her body ready enough that the feeling was more one of fullness than pain. Her body had to stretch for him. She grabbed hold of him and shifted on instinct more than intention and pulled him closer and deeper. He was inside her. That realization was as much a part of the sensation as anything happening to her body. 

“Oh,” he muttered into her ear. 

“Slow,” she said. 

They were very close and very clumsy. Even as inexperienced as she was, she could tell that they were clumsy. She didn’t care. It was perfect. He played with her hair and kissed anything his mouth could reach as he experimented with how to move his hips against hers. 

He pulled her closer and they lost the angle that made keeping their bodies together possible. They had to pull back and start over to fix it. When he slid back in, she wrapped her legs around his waist and held on. It held him down too tight and her body ached a little but she didn’t stop. 

Some things worked and she let her eyes fall shut to just sink into the feeling. Some things made the beautiful full feeling shift into pain and she had to stop him with a hand on his hip and a soft protest. He responded to her immediately, leaving behind the sharp angle and shifting back into a better position. 

They didn’t go fast and they didn’t go hard. All her previous complaints about him being too gentle went out the window. He kept catching her cheek in his hand and turning her face back to him to make sure she was still enjoying it. She smiled and kissed him over and over until she was pretty sure she’d convinced him to stop worrying. 

It didn’t last nearly as long as she wanted it to. He rocked his body against hers. Slipping in a little, sliding out a little but not losing the closeness. She felt the way his movements changed as he got closer. Jerkier and harder. She wasn’t anywhere near another orgasm but she could feel every detail of his and that was it’s own kind of pleasure. His stomach muscles tensed against hers, his fingers bit into her hip, his thighs shuddered. 

Then he collapsed into her. 

“That was excellent,” she said. 

He muttered something that wasn’t words. 

“We should do it again,” she said. 

“Daily practice?” he managed to get out but his voice wasn’t even. 

“Yeah, definitely,” she said. 

He didn’t get off her. He had slid out of her which led to another embarrassing round of find-the-condom though they were both past being embarrassed by that point. Her body was simultaneously relieved and left bereft. She wanted him back inside as much as she needed the break. She was going to ache later. She could feel the start of it. She pet his hair and let herself linger over the details of his body and her own. 

“Did you?” he asked once his voice was back to normal. 

“No, but I did before, it’s fine,” she said. 

“S’not fair,” he said pushing up on his elbows to look down at her. She raised her eyebrows in a challenge. He pushed her up on the bed and laid down between her knees. She propped herself up against the headboard with pillows so she could watch him. 

“Enjoying the show?” he asked. 

“So far,” she said. 

She was sensitive and he wasn’t nearly as gentle with his mouth as he had been before. He closed his mouth on her and sucked hard and she cried out immediately. He softened a little after that but didn’t slow down. Long sweeps of his tongue and sharp suction that pulled a sound from her every time. He pushed his fingers back inside her and they made her want other things but she wasn’t going to tell him that. 

He pushed her over the edge into an orgasm that shuddered through her. Her toes curled and her head fell back and he pulled her back into the nest of blankets so that she could come back down from it held in his arms. 

They held onto each other. The conversation wandered onto other things but they laid like that, naked and spent and happy while they talked about class registration and television shows. During a lull in the topics she tilted her head back to look at him.

"This is us," she said. 

"Very astute, Mademoiselle Coccinelle," he said. 

"I like us like this," she said trying to get straight in her head what she meant. 

"Me too," he said. 

"I think sometimes that we were always meant to be together, it was always going to be you and me, even before I met you," she said. 

"I know what you mean," he said. 

"Together," she said. 

"Forever," he echoed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been in this mess of school stress and financial stress and I don't have a book shelf and you know when you're really stressed and little things like, "I left my bookshelves in my parent's basement when I moved," become hugely annoying? Yeah that's where I've been. 
> 
> And I write smut when I am stressed so here it is. 
> 
> Writing them having their embarrassed freak out towards the end was my favourite part. Especially her threat to put the condom on his head. Me and some friends tried to put condoms over our heads once. It didn't go well. One friend got one down as far as her nose and tried to inflate it by exhaling and it popped. So we put them on our feet instead. We were living in this house with linoleum in the kitchen and did you know that if you get lube on linoleum tiles and then try and walk on it with your socks later, it's like a skating rink? I would try and be a good influence and tell you not to but seriously, it was super fun. Then we had to try and mop lube off the kitchen floor. 
> 
> (We were not drunk. We were isolated in a cabin in the woods in the middle of winter with no tv, no smartphones (because 2005), no internet, the nearest town was Edmonton and it was a 45 minute drive and we didn't have access to personal vehicles and we had a bit of cabin fever). 
> 
> Right. Anyways. 
> 
> I'm calling this story done here.


End file.
